Sushant Singh
In 1972, at the height of unresolved tensions with China after the 1962 war, India converted the North-East Frontier Agency into the Union territory of Arunachal Pradesh. Three years later, it got a legislative assembly and became a full-fledged state in February 1987 at the peak of the Sumdorong Chu crisis with China. By that single step, India expanded democratic government on a contested frontier, cemented national sovereignty, and integrated the borderlands firmly into the constitutional fabric of the country. Nearly four decades later, no one can deny that statehood to Arunachal Pradesh has strengthened India’s political claim over a region China also claims and reinforced national security.
The same logic applies to Ladakh today. But the Narendra Modi government treats the region as a security problem to be managed from Delhi rather than a loyal population entitled to democratic rights. Why should Ladakh be treated differently? Does its Buddhist and Shia Muslim demography make its people less deserving? Kargil remained outside the insurgency that engulfed Kashmir for decades and has supported the Indian army during all the wars with Pakistan. This unblemished record makes the suspicion surrounding their democratic demands particularly offensive. Why must citizens who helped defend India face questions about their patriotism when they seek an elected government?
The people of Ladakh would have never anticipated this fate when their region was made into a Union territory in 2019. Many of them even welcomed the harsh security measures taken by the Modi government in Kashmir during that period, including curfews, internet shutdowns and denial of religious rights. To be fair, the demand for separation from Jammu and Kashmir came principally from Leh where some leaders resented subordination to Srinagar and perceived discrimination against their region. Shia-majority Kargil had opposed the division and wanted to remain a part of J&K. However, the Modi government’s uncaring actions have brought the two regions together in demanding democratic rights.
Those who welcomed separation expected greater control over their affairs. Instead, Ladakh lost its representation in the former J&K state legislature and received no legislature of its own. Hill councils are not the same as a government answerable to an elected assembly. The people of Ladakh may have escaped Srinagar’s dominance and indifference, only to find the region being treated as an outpost controlled by unelected bureaucrats and a viceregal lieutenant-governor appointed by the Union home ministry. This top-down governance model tramples upon basic democratic rights and reduces proud citizens to helpless spectators in their own homeland.
The people of Ladakh have also learnt lessons from what Kashmiris have gone through: democratically elected leaders have been disempowered by the Modi government using a convoluted set of rules in that former state. They thus want a governance structure with adequate constitutional safeguards wherein local voices would govern local affairs without external interference, something that cannot be amended at the whims and fancies of some bureaucrats.
After protests, which saw police firing leading to deaths on the streets of Leh, the Modi government resumed negotiations with a united forum of two groups, one from Leh and the other from Kargil. In June 2025, some of the minor demands about separate recruitment and domicile measures were conceded by the home ministry. The central understanding between the two sides, however, emerged in May 2026, and its minutes were released in July. The minutes recorded agreement on a customised Union territory-level elected body with “executive, financial and legislative powers”. They also placed supervision of bureaucrats handling its subjects, including their annual performance reports, with the democratically elected political executive. Constitutional safeguards would come through a customised model under Article 371, tailored to Ladakh’s unique needs. The long-term aspiration for statehood was also acknowledged. Some of the details required further negotiation but the direction of democratic self-governance residing with Ladakh’s chosen representatives was patent.
However, in its October 15 proposal, the Centre has reversed that direction. Its 32-page draft proposes an elected body under a new Article 371K, but its powers and composition would be determined by presidential regulations promulgated under Article 240 and not through constitutional provisions. It leaves Ladakh’s representatives with a body that can be overruled at will. Every law passed by the elected body would require the lieutenant-governor’s assent before taking effect. Wider democratic control over the bureaucracy remained unconceded. It means that New Delhi would retain full control over the region through an unelected set of officials.
Nagaland exposes the weakness of Delhi’s position. Naga nationalism claimed independence in 1947 which developed into armed insurgency in the following decades. Nevertheless, Nagaland has statehood and Article 371A, which gives it special protections over land, resources and customary law that no Central legislation can override without the state assembly’s consent. Ladakh’s representatives seek a comparable consent mechanism covering protected subjects. The home ministry’s draft instead maintains the application of Central laws without that protection. A region with a long insurgent history would therefore retain stronger constitutional authority over its crucial local interests than Ladakh whose leaders are peacefully pursuing their demands within India’s constitutional framework. The Modi government offers no convincing democratic justification for this disparity, except for claiming that the latest proposal is consultative. But that does not explain its operative provisions retreating from the May understanding.
Public outrage over these repeated betrayals had earlier resulted in mass protests in Leh, leading to tragic deaths and brutal crackdowns on peaceful demonstrators. Ignoring local grievances also carries a massive geopolitical cost, especially regarding China. On October 13, Beijing again rejected Ladakh’s Union territory status as “unilaterally and illegally” established and claimed the western sector of the boundary. Ladakhi leaders condemned China’s position. The Centre should recognise the strategic value of citizens who reject Beijing’s claims while demanding democratic rights from their own government.
In any case, democratic rights are not a luxury to be rationed according to political or security convenience. They are the reason people remain invested in the national project. The Modi government argues that administrative control and direct Central oversight are necessary for national security in sensitive border regions. But Arunachal Pradesh has demonstrated that democratic inclusion can reinforce a disputed frontier. Ladakh needs the same confidence. Strengthening the border requires winning the hearts and minds of its inhabitants; it will not be achieved by disenfranchising the local population or treating loyal citizens as security threats.
Denying meaningful democracy, weakening negotiated commitments, and leaving citizens dependent on distant administrators manufacture alienation where India needs trust. Let the people of Ladakh govern their land, jobs and future. Anything less is playing with fire in a sensitive frontier region that has already cost too much.
Sushant Singh is lecturer at Yale University
